


cloud strife's "leather-bound hands"

by devilfic



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Suggestive Themes, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yes I am ashamed, aerith is a wingman but not really, despite there being suggestive content it actually doesn't go anywhere, yes this is an entire fic dedicated to cloud's hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25534555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilfic/pseuds/devilfic
Summary: you have a strange obsession with cloud’s hands.
Relationships: Cloud Strife/Reader, Cloud Strife/You
Comments: 20
Kudos: 238





	cloud strife's "leather-bound hands"

No matter your level of comfort towards physical intimacy, battle never allowed your boundaries to stay uncrossed for long.

Cloud had a...  _ habit _ of manhandling. His mind moved faster than most of you and so when you all were up against a particularly nasty enemy and Cloud really needed one of you to be  _ anywhere else _ than where you were, he oftentimes took it upon himself to move you. Barret was the only one free from this habit of Cloud’s, simply based on the fact that he was far too bulky for someone as small as Cloud to maneuver, but the rest of you? It was constant fair game.

His habit had to either be tamped down or reformed in some way, so that meant that if Cloud was going to grab one of you and fling you out of the way, you had to make the most of it. You, specifically, learned how to anticipate when he was about to reorder your party. 

If he tossed Aerith next to you, you knew that you could rely on her shielding spells to amplify your attacks tenfold. If he shoved Barret in front of you, you knew that a barrage of attacks were about to be unleashed against your party, and you needed to guard immediately. While the others often complained of the tricky little routine Cloud had started, you found it quite helpful at times. After all, he was ex-SOLDIER. If anyone in your group knew everyone’s greatest strengths and weaknesses in battle the best, it was Cloud. 

It had taken some time for the early members of Avalanche to get used to the new setup, but you were probably the only person who could keep up with Cloud’s battle trained mind. That meant that he very rarely needed to move you... until the one day he did.

You were being hounded on by a few stray infantrymen, somewhere on the outskirts of a sector you’d never been to. It hadn’t taken long for your suspicious group to catch the eyes of some prying Shinra dogs.

You’re about five seconds from knocking a smug grin off the face of one of your assailants when you feel something foreign and leathery take hold of your upper arm, flinging you out of the way of the infantryman’s eyesight. The touch only lasts a moment but the sudden change of scenery throws you  _ way _ off balance. You stumble into Tifa, absentmindedly shouting an apology to the brawler just in time to catch your bearings and send your nail-ridden bat into the helmet of one of her attackers, sending them sprawling to the ground in pain. 

You can’t stop thinking about the feeling.

After shaking off the infantrymen, all of you had huddled into a dilapidated motel to rest and hopefully hide out from any other people looking to cause trouble for your merry band of men. It was up to you and Cloud to head out and get dinner. You’d both been instructed by Barret (perhaps unnecessarily) to not draw any attention to yourselves. “You two look like a couple,” Aerith had offered unhelpfully, a sly smile on her face for reasons beyond your frazzled mind, “people hate looking at couples in love!”

The foot or two of space between you and Cloud did not exactly spell out “IN LOVE”, but it would have to do as you both walked through the crowded sector, searching for somewhere to eat that would arouse the least amount of complaints from everyone. Your upper arm is still tingling.

“You okay?” You ask, a small attempt to make friendly conversation with the otherwise introverted ex-SOLDIER. Neither of you were exactly the type for small talk, but it beat the awkward silence you felt looming over you.

Cloud shot you a quick glance before focusing his sights on moving through the crowd without getting knocked over or separated from you. He’d left his buster sword back at the motel in exchange for mundanity, much to his discomfort, “Fine. You?”

_ That wasn’t much to work with _ . “Yeah... that encounter earlier threw me off, is all.”

“Why?” You could hear the palpable confusion in his voice even over the life of the bustling night, “It wasn’t any worse that what we’ve dealt with before.”

You don’t really know how to articulate that the battle itself wasn’t what had flustered you without making him feel weird. Or making you  _ look _ weird. It was such a simple touch after all. He did it to everyone. It was going to happen to you eventually. You shouldn’t have been so shocked.

Except, out of everyone, Cloud’s was the only one whose touch had never graced your skin before. Barret would give you proud claps on the back, Tifa would gently brush her fingers along your forearms to take your hands in hers, Aerith would never hesitate to throw her arms around your neck for hugs, and Red would often brush up against your leg in a friendly manner all the time. Cloud often kept to himself until a fight broke out, but even then, he very rarely felt the need to push or pull you anywhere. It just felt... new.

You don’t realize Cloud is calling your name until you feel that same leather against your skin again, only this time, it’s wrapped firmly around your hand. You both have stopped moving and are standing off to the side of the giggling crowd, Cloud’s gloved hand clenched around your own almost hard enough to hurt. When he sees the recognition flash in your eyes, he releases. “Sorry,” he mutters, immediately retracting his hand, “you weren’t reacting to anything else... are you okay?”

Your hand is tingling, flexing for the missing touch. It feels so... strange. You had never really considered yourself the type to miss touch, to be touch-starved. You were always quite fine without it, had grown up fine without it. So why did Cloud’s hands feel so... “I should be apologizing. My mind is all over the place right now and we’re nowhere near safe enough to enjoy that luxury.”

Cloud frowns, “You sure it’s just the ambush that’s got you shaken?” 

_ Of course not. _ You nod, “I think there’s a BBQ place nearby. I can smell the meat. Red’ll love it.”

Cloud looks you over for a moment longer, seemingly unconvinced, before he allows you to lead by your nose. That night, the topic doesn’t come up again.

* * *

Except it does. It doesn’t come up in conversation, but at some point, you awaken in the middle of the night in a feverish sweat. You can feel that leather receding from your thighs the moment you look out around you in the motel room, your chest heaving up and down to take in gulps of air. You haven’t had a dream like that since...

You feel so ashamed, sluggishly dragging yourself out of bed as quietly as possible as to not wake the fast asleep Aerith beside you. She doesn’t stir and you know that she’s probably really tuckered out. After all, she was an incredibly light sleeper due to the nightmares that plagued her mind when they had the time.

Your first stop is the bathroom. You splash your face with ice cold tap water and look over your exhausted form in the grimy bathroom mirror, trying to gather your thoughts. All you could remember was the burn of freezing metal and leather gloves moving up your knees... and a blurry figure, practically a mess of shapes, but undeniably-

You don’t let yourself finish that thought lest you think about it for the rest of the night, so you slip out of the bathroom and head for the door, deciding that you’d do well to get some fresh air. The clock on the nightstand tells you that it’s around witching hour, so it’ll be somewhat quiet out at least.

The motel hallways are cold and carry a distinct smell with them, distracting you from the recesses of your dream that sought to turn you into a nervous puddle step by step. By the time you get outside, you find only one other person straggling outside the motel. It’s an older man with a cigarette between his teeth. He nods to you with a nonchalant eyebrow raise, and then goes back to staring out at the street with little interest. 

Why did you feel so affected by a simple touch? There was no intention behind either incident other than to get your attention at the most. You were touched by the others all the time. It was nothing new to you!  _ Cloud _ was nothing new to you.

His hands just felt really good.

You chalked it up to the leather. Perhaps you just had an affinity for the feel (and you ignored the fact that you’d never reacted as bodily to Tifa’s leather gloves in your time together). That had to be it. There was no reason for you to be standing out here, in the middle of the night, ignoring an unwarranted racy dream that did nothing but steal precious, precious sleep from you over liking the feel of Cloud’s hands-  _ leather-bound _ hands.

You feel like the silence outside is only making this worse for you. 

With a defeated grumble, you decide that maybe you’ll grab a drink from one of the vending machines. Maybe these were the ramblings of a dehydrated mind?

As you greedily gulp down a bottle of some fancy Sector 8 water, you’re made aware of the pulse of your throat and the curiosity to feel leather against it.

* * *

It’s been a few days since your dream and you’ve since come to terms with the fact that you are not immune to the bewitching allure of Cloud Strife, no matter how humbling it is to tell yourself.

Cloud hasn’t touched you since then despite the fact that you’ve seen your fair share of brawls in that time. You’d like to think that it’s a compliment; you’re good at fighting. You know where to be and when, so much so that Cloud does not need to intervene at any moment. You’re happy he leaves you alone. It makes you feel like you’re doing a good job.

It’s just that when Cloud’s hand reaches out to touch Tifa, and it’s so close to touching you too, you lean closer if only to feel the brush of his fingers before he’s snatching away his childhood friend to stand elsewhere. The moment you realize what you’re doing, you audibly growl, swinging your bat extra hard at a lingering Monodrive that dares look at you like it’s judging you. Your rational mind knows it isn’t, but your irrational mind? It just really wants to feel something again.

The first encounter with craving Cloud’s touch had left you nervous, out of it, but now you felt a strangely unjustifiable agitation. Yes, Cloud was undeniably handsome and  _ yes _ , there was some strange, primal part of you that quite liked the idea of being touched by him, however briefly, but that did not give you the right to be as upset as you were over the absence of said touch. Even you knew, in your hazed mind, that you were acting childish. But still...

You wished you had the balls to just reach out and grab onto him like Aerith and Tifa would, having known him long enough to feel entirely at home with moving the ex-SOLDIER around in peacetime as he did moving them around in wartime. If you tried to touch him out of the blue, it’d surely be strange for you, let alone him. Even accidental brushes were few and far between with the two of you. You were always hyperaware of his presence and managed to stay out of his way just fine. If you thought too long on ways you could encourage any kind of physical contact from him, just to put your mind to rest, you’d end up an overheated and frustrated mess. It was already taking everything in Aerith not to prod you for information to kingdom come.

You know everyone can sense something wrong with you when you say that you’re going on a solitary walk that evening, not mentioning how long you’d be out or where you’d even be going. You’re honestly thankful that you don’t hear anyone following after you either. You felt that at least some time alone might clear your misguided mind. 

The place you all currently were in ended up being near a sizable body of water, and the faint crashing of waves at the shore draws you near it like a moth to a flame. Surely, some time here would help you gather yourself together. Then, you’d make up for your weird mood back at the motel with a round of cards and gambling that overly-competitive Barret definitely wouldn’t try to win and fail time and time again.

Yeah, you just needed to get Cloud’s hands off your mind. 

Sinking down into the sand several feet away from the lapping waves, you let the coolness of the evening do whatever it can to your nerves in exchange for some peace and quiet. You start to think about where you all would be headed next, stocking up on items, the works. For a while, it was actually helping.

“You like the beach, too?” You’re startled out of your thoughts by a flurry of movement beside you. Aerith has appeared at your right, grinning out at the water as she tucks her dress beneath her to sit. “I’ve been telling Barret we should have a beach day, but nobody wants to put their weapons down for a second!”

“I don’t think we’re in a position to enjoy a day at the beach, Aerith.” You chuckle, tossing some sand into her lap.

The girl huffs but doesn’t deny you, gently shaking off the sand from the skirt of her dress, “Perhaps... but everyone seriously needs to loosen up. We’ve been on edge for weeks. I’m assuming that’s what’s up with you?”

“Sure.”

“Come onnn,” the girl shoves you with her elbow, barely moving you an inch, “talk to me. We share a bed! We should share our thoughts too.”

You’re almost certain that Aerith would want nothing to do with your thoughts if she knew what they really were. How could you tell her about your measly, insignificant crush on Cloud (or rather, his hands, because that was as far as you were allowing yourself to entertain right now) without her making it a big deal? At the moment, you were very satisfied with the opposite.

You also know that she won’t let up when she feels she’s got her hook in a good catch, and so you think of how you can best choose your next words, “I’m just getting used to all this. Being a vigilante, on the run, all that.”

“But weren’t you already part of Avalanche? This shouldn’t be new to you.”

“I was, but... I had always seen myself staying in Sector 7. Never leaving. I’d do my part from home where it was safe and charted territory. Now, I’m with you guys, and while I’m having a blast-”

“You never expected it to get this far. I understand how you feel. I never thought I’d be doing this either. It all seems so fun! Like an action movie, you know? But our lives and the planet are on the line... it’s a big ask for all of us to try and protect that.” Wise as ever, Aerith manages to top her reply off with a pout, “Would you like to go home?”

You shake your head, then rest your chin on your knees. You feel bad for making one of the many things plaguing your mind right now the sole thing in order to save face, but it is shockingly therapeutic to get it out nonetheless. “I miss home but... I like you guys more. I mean, only an idiot would pass up a chance like this.”

Aerith giggles, “Glad to hear it! We would all be very sad if you didn’t stay. Some more than others.”

You raise a brow, “What? Like you?”

“And others.”

That catches your attention for sure.

You raise your head and turn to Aerith, facing her fully, watching the way the sunset behind you both frames her cheeks in a knowing, pink glow. There’s a tiny smile on her face that speaks volumes that you unfortunately cannot understand. “Aerith-”

The girl suddenly jumps up from the sand, brushing off her dress, “Would you look at the time!” She shouts, startling some other beachgoers nearby with the loudness of her voice. She points toward the sun as if it tells her the exact minute just by its position in the sky, “We should be heading back before nightfall. Wouldn’t want to get lost in an unknown city, would you?”

You frown, trying to decipher her meaning, “I’ll catch up later.”

Aerith just winks at you and walks away. “Don’t be late!”

* * *

An hour has passed before you start making your trek back, hoping that Aerith wouldn’t be too upset with you for being out so long. At least now you could say that your head was much clearer than it was hours ago. Maybe after a nice night’s rest, you would be in a better mood. 

Whatever work you’d managed to do sitting on the beach quickly dissipates the second you turn the corner. 

Standing up against the brick wall of a closed bakery, you recognize Cloud’s form in no time. He’s in his usual getup, buster sword and all, and is illuminated by a nearby streetlight that turns his hair molten gold. He’s got one leg crossed over the other, same with his arms, and his eyes are shut as if he’s napping. Stepping closer to the ex-SOLDIER, he rouses to attention, blinking at you calmly, “Wanted to walk you home.”

Did he have to be so dreamy looking when he said that? “Oh, Cloud, I didn’t know you... did Aerith make you come out here? How long have you been waiting?”

He ignores the real question completely, pushing himself off the wall and nodding for you to follow him on the short walk back to the motel, “Aerith doesn’t make me do anything. Feeling better?”

_ Not anymore _ is what you want to say, but in order to not put his nerves on edge, you just nod, “Sort of. I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning. It’s just one of those things.” Cloud makes sure to keep that same foot of space between you even as you itch to break it. 

He hums, “I was going to ask if you’d be interested in spending some time with me in the morning.”

“W-With you?” If you weren’t already concerned about your mental state around Cloud, you’d honestly mistake the warm lighting of the city for a blush on his cheeks. Whatever it is, he refuses to look you in the eyes as you both continue to walk.

“I wanted to know if you’d like a sparring partner. We haven’t really had time to practice without our lives being on the line in a long time. Might be good for us. Could learn about each other better. Maybe take your mind off whatever’s bothering you.”  _ Learn about each other’s bodies better, more like _ . 

Perhaps he had noticed that your behavior had been off since the fight the other day? Maybe he wanted to get you used to it in a controlled setting? “That’s a great idea, Cloud,” you shoot him a nervous smile, “I’m sure-” 

You don’t have ample time to react when Cloud suddenly yanks you toward him by the waist, only for a cyclist to rush by with a half-assed apology thrown your way. You don’t know whether to be pissed that they were biking on the sidewalk or focused on the very real lack of space between you and Cloud right now. His fingers twitch on your lower back and you quite instantly make your decision.

Your arms are all over the place, tucked awkwardly against his chest while he’s got his left arm snug around your hip and his right hand bracing against the wall behind you both to keep him from crashing into it. The proximity only freaks you out for a few moments, and then you find yourself subconsciously leaning into the touch with a whimper of a “thank you” slipping past your lips, not at all inclined to move.

Cloud stares down at you with those giant, colorful eyes of his, muttering a “no problem” to you even as he does not make the executive move to release you. You can’t tell if it’s stranger that you aren’t pulling away yet or that you’re perfectly fine that he hasn’t pulled away either. 

_ Curses _ . As soon as you thought that, you feel his hand peel from your back so that you can stand upright on your own two feet, “Sorry,” he whispers, “it was quicker to grab you-”

“Don’t apologize for that.” You blurt out before you can review how that might sound coming from you, all flushed and still invading his personal space, “Feel free to... uh, I mean, I don’t mind if you touch... me. Sometimes.” You really could have said all of that better.

At least you know for sure now that there is a definite blush on his cheeks, “Sure thing. S-Same here.”

Well, you weren’t as bold as Tifa and Aerith, but if he was giving you permission...

You hook your arm around his before you can talk yourself out of it, spurred on by the adrenaline in your veins, “Probably best we stick a little closer to each other in case someone tries to mow me over again.”

Cloud does not bother to refute your reasoning at all, taking care to keep your hand at his bicep from being crushed against his side. The added tingly feeling trickling down his skin where you touch him isn’t unwanted, after all.

* * *

You had never slept better and it shows in how Cloud stumbles back from a hit with a look of shock on his face, “Not bad.” 

You grin over your balled fists and let them fall to your side as he walks back to the center of the fighting ring, adjusting the gauze wrapped around his wrists. His signature gloves have been removed in order to give you a fair fight, and you can’t say that you despise the look of his bared hands to you at all. Even layered in white. “But don’t you think Tifa would be a better boxing partner?”

Cloud flashes his eyes at you with a tiny laugh, a rarity to see with the ex-SOLDIER, “Tifa would put me in a coma if I tried to practice with her. You and I are the only ones who fight melee style, so it only makes sense that we’d be the best partners for each other when it comes hand-to-hand.”

“Okay, but you have the advantage of being ex-SOLDIER. I’m just some backwater rebel.”

An unreadable look crosses his face as he shakes his head, “I’m rusty all the same. You’ve seen my sword. I use it for everything.”

He had a point. The thing was riddled with scars, double the amount of the man who wielded it. Your bat was starting to look the same for you as well.

“And,” he starts, getting back into a fighting stance, “you’re not just  _ some backwater rebel _ .”

You trade a few blows for actually answering him, although your heart skips a beat at how he tries to defend you. 

The small city gym is scarce this early in the morning save for the obvious early birds who make coming here part of their personality. This meant that you and Cloud could practice uninterrupted for as long as you saw fit (or until another group came in demanding the space). You still had some energy left, but since you’d both been sparring for a good hour now, that energy was waning... unlike your partner.

You blamed it on the mako enhancements, but he looked like he could go several more rounds with or without you. You imagined what it would be like to be inside Cloud’s mind. You’d heard what mako could do to one’s senses, let alone humanity. You imagined that he felt everything ten times as much as the average person and twice as fast which made him an honorable teammate and daunting foe. You had seen Cloud when he was  _ really _ angry before. Needless to say, you never wanted to go up against him as an enemy.

Thanks to his experience however, he knows how to temper his ability to spar with you fairly. He never truly overwhelms you unless it’s because of a fault on your end that you should have avoided. A misstep, a distraction... the latter of which were abundant when Cloud was inches away from you.

Skin covered in a sheen of sweat, he practically glows under the gym’s fluorescent lights. Blow after blow, you take them in stride, trying your best to just keep yourself focused on his next moves. You’d only managed to catch him off guard twice, and if you could manage a third time before he called for an end to your training, you’d be more than satisfied with yourself. Now, to distract him.

Cloud was fairly good at seeing through ruses, but growing up as a “backwater rebel”, you’d learned a few tricks on sleight of hand. You knew how to trick eyes. Most of your tricks were foiled by Cloud immediately because he wasn’t exactly dense by any means, but those two times weren’t anything to sneeze at. If you were going to pull this off, you had to be smart about it.

Cloud’s fist connects with your head and for a moment, his eyes shoot open wide. He’d surely given you enough time to react to that, right? He’s proven wrong when you double over, gripping your head with a cry of pain. “Shit, I didn’t mean to-”

Then, just as you’d planned, you remove your hands from your head to wrap around his middle and knock him off balance, throwing him to the ground of the ring with relative ease. You scramble up his body as soon as he’s knocked over, taking his wrists in yours and pressing them down beside his head with a grin, “I only half-thought you’d fall for that one, you know.”

The ex-SOLDIER looks somewhere between exasperated with you and impressed, letting you pin his wrists down if only to allow him a moment to catch his breath. “ _ That _ was cheating.”

“Was not! In a real fight, anything goes.”

“Oh, I had no clue this was a real fight or I would have brought my sword and finished you off an hour ago.” He deadpans, wiggling experimentally underneath you.

You tilt your head to the side, “You think I wouldn’t have knocked your ass out like a home run before you could even get the damn thing off your back? You give yourself too much credit.”

Or, maybe not.

You let yourself get so caught up in the banter that you don’t process that he’s thrust his thighs open at once, effectively knocking off your balanced straddle. Shifting his hands down until they were gripping your own in each, he uses the force of his core to twist you over so that your positions have switched. Only this time, you know there’s no chance of you catching him off guard the way he did you. Those thighs of his were immovable.

“For your information,” he leans down with the barest hint of a smile on his face, “I give myself the deserved amount of credit. I will applaud your strategy, though. It worked well up until a minute ago.”

Oh, how you’ve fantasized about this very moment. You’re getting more than just his hands on you; you’re getting  _ most _ of him on you. Let’s be honest, even if you had the chance to knock him off you, you weren’t in any rush to make it happen. Could Cloud see the way he was affecting you? Maybe he’d learned how to hide it and was mentally laughing at you. You weren’t by any means an expert at keeping a straight face in his presence. 

“Who said getting you pinned down was the only part of my strategy?” Your attempt at faux bravado does nothing to sway him this time either. Figures; it was a cheap trick anyway.

“What else did you have in mind?”

Honestly, this was already fulfilling your wildest dreams and then some. You’d be going home a happy camper for sure. Instead of answering his question, you look up to where your hands remain intertwined, “You have really nice hands.”

Cloud furrows his brows, “You think so...?

You gulp, realizing that you’ve exposed your neck to look up at said hands, and that same fantasy from nights ago comes back to mind. Even if he wasn’t wearing the gloves in question, it still skyrocketed to the forefront of your brain like a reflex. “Yeah. I don’t know why you hide them in those gloves of yours all the time. They’ve got this... roughness to them but they’re still so delicate. Maybe it’s a... SOLDIER thing? Really nice hands in exchange for mako poisoning?”

He laughs in disbelief, peeling away from you to examine his own hands with curiosity, “I think it’s a  _ you _ thing, but thanks. Ready to call it a day?”

Your fatigued body is screaming yes, even as your hands itch to be pinned back down by Cloud’s again. Maybe you’d have to put those backwater tricks to use again. “Aching to.”

* * *

Perhaps, Cloud’s tendency to roll over and show his belly whenever Tifa and Aerith wanted to prod and poke at him had now extended to you too. That classic foot of space between the two of you when walking was gradually broken in half, and on the rare occasion that Cloud had to manhandle you during battle, you had a much more receptive reaction that your initial one. You didn’t abuse your newfound permission to touch Cloud, so when you did get those little moments, you found that Cloud was more than willing to comply.

And so did Aerith. Actually, so did everyone.

“It took me nearly all night to convince Cloud to high-five me when we first met, and somehow you’ve managed to halve that.” Aerith pouts, watching as you continue to knead the meat of Cloud’s palm. After he’d complained of it cramping up in battle, you had offered your little knowledge of hand relief (and jumped at the chance to have his fingers between yours again).

It had been a good amount of time since your last sparring session with Cloud and you were currently waiting for Tifa to come back with dinner. It seemed you all were always waiting around for food these days. It beat waiting around for Shinra, at least.

You look up at Aerith over the crowded breakfast table, the girl in the midst of a heated card game with Barret, “What do you mean?”

“Kid wouldn’t let anyone touch him,” Barret grunts, “‘cept Tifa for the longest time.”

Cloud’s head is thrown back over the back of his chair, arm resting comfortably in your lap as you massage his hand, “I knew Tifa much longer than I knew any of you.”

“Still!” Aerith pouts.

“I can give you a hand massage too, Aerith. Gripping and twirling that staff around all the time can’t be good for your joints.” You offer with a smile. 

At that, Aerith lights up and nods. At the same time, she sets down a pair of cards that has Barret dropping his head into his hands in defeat. “But, (Name), do you know about Madam M by any chance?”

At the mention of the name, you see Cloud visibly stiffen in his seat. “Can’t say I do...?” You answer, confused.

“She runs a pretty fancy massage parlor up at Wall Market in Sector 6. Me and Cloud went to her for help getting us into Don Corneo’s bridal auditions,” you let all of that information hit you at once in order to keep up with her, “she was going to kick us out since we hadn’t come for a massage, but one look at Cloud and her tune changed quick! She gave him a hand massage to remember! I don’t think he’s been the same man since that night.”

“ _ Aerith _ .” Cloud hisses through his teeth, no intended malice present but a fair warning for her to not continue. All the girl does is grin right back at him.

“He got the luxury course since we had enough gil for it-”

“Yeah?” You ask, thoroughly interested. Your hands hadn’t paused as they continued to massage Cloud’s hand, even as he began to squirm in your grip.

“Aerith!”

“-I thought I might need to leave the sector, he was so loud-!”

“I’m back!” Tifa and Red’s entrance suddenly shocks you all out of the conversation, something Cloud was entirely thankful for. The ex-SOLDIER jumps up to retrieve the food from Tifa’s hands and busies himself setting out everything, encouraging Tifa to ramble about the townspeople she encountered. The whole time, you notice the hand you were massaging is trembling.

* * *

“I hope you don’t think... that massage thing was creepy.”

Cloud corners you after dinner as you clean up the mess, the others immersed in a much more competitive card game than the one from earlier. You drop the food boxes off at the kitchenette with a smile, “Of course I don’t think that! Your hand was in pain. It didn’t hurt me any to help.”

“Right,” he mutters, looking adorably bashful, “but I don’t want you to think that I was getting... something  _ else _ out of it.”

“I would never think that of you, Cloud. I offered it in the first place after all.” You assure, though you can’t help wishing that perhaps he  _ did _ get something else out of it. After all, you wouldn’t mind if he felt just as eager about having you touch him as you did getting to touch him. 

He looks a little more relieved, avoiding eye contact. “Well... Thanks for earlier. My hand feels much better.”

You nod, watching as he moves to turn and rejoin the others at the table for their next round. However, before he can get very far, you call out to him, emboldened by the gods or desire or the hopeful look in Cloud’s eyes when he looks back to you, “And... if you ever want to get something  _ else _ out of it, just let me know.”

Cloud calls it an early night.


End file.
